Fallen
by unforgiven601030
Summary: She's been betrayed again and this time, by the last person she expected to betray her. Angsty Grillows with GSR of course.


Fallen

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case)

Disclaimer: Not mine though I sure wish…you know. The ones you know are theirs, the ones you _don't_ know are mine.

Summary: When Catherine finds out the truth, will she be able to forgive Grissom and move on or will she walk out of his life forever? What if by the time he comes to fix everything, he finds out he's too late?

Note: Most probably angst-y. You know me, I like putting GSR in to make it feel more…messy. So yeah, there will be GSR but you also know I'm a Grillows shipper so …you'll see, that is, if you want me to keep going. Let me know!

Note2: Catherine is the swing shift supervisor here and Grissom is still in the graveyard shift which means you'll have the same set up as season5, only less complicated. Sort of.

-o0o-

Chapter One: Spot the Difference

Catherine got out of her black Denali, pocketing her keys and leaving her bag of clothes in her trunk. She journeyed up the steps that led to the front door of the grayish white townhouse that loomed over her. She glanced at the windows and saw that unsurprisingly the blinds were drawn against the bright sunlight at eight in the morning.

She fished out a key from the back pocket of her jeans, smiling a little as she slipped it into the lock. She tried to recall the last time she was here, but she was sure it had been a long time. _Too long._

She sighed and tossed her purse onto the couch, feeling the safety she's felt for almost twenty years now. The townhouse felt quiet and empty, which was strange since he was suppose to be here, sleeping after his shift just ended. She went to the kitchen, expecting him to be there, cooking up a storm, maybe his "famous" omelet she's always loved. She frowned when she only found his new dog, Hank, whose eyes were wide, ears perked up, looking curiously at her. When he saw her, sniffed her scent, his tail began to wag and he came closer, nudging his nose against her hand.

Smiling, she bent down and patted the dog affectionately and scratched the back of his ear, effectively turning him into a puddle on the floor as he flipped onto his back, wagging his tail in ecstasy, asking for more. She cooed a little before deciding to walk away and continue with her search. She was tempted to make herself a snack, but decided against it. Her body craved sleep more than food.

She just wrapped up an assault case with the victim and the suspect playing ping pong with their statements, a case of he said, she said. At first the evidence had been confusing, playing along with the two until she dug up some evidence and finally proved that it was just some ploy of the woman to get some money out of the guy.

She had been pissed off, especially when the girl started to weep and tell some sob story that she needed the money and the guy had more than enough and she just wanted "a little bit". She didn't feel quite sorry when she had her taken to booking.

It had taken it out on her, exhausting her when she thought she had an easy case while Nick and Warrick took care of a 419 in a hotel room. They had it easier, she was sure of it. They solved it in one shift while she extended quite a bit.

But even then, as her own shift extended into his, she hadn't seen him.

She just wanted sleep.

And she couldn't remember the last time she slept here, but now, after just dropping off her sixteen-year-old daughter to school, she was ready to go back to sleep.

She called his number, pressed speed dial and got sent to voicemail so she gave up. She decided she would wait in his room, curl up and fall asleep until she had to get up again to her shift or maybe to his kisses and his cuddling. She stumbled as she walked, Hank following close at her heels and she realized she was more tired that she thought.

She stumbled rather than walked into his bedroom, already feeling his sheets against her skin, smelling his scent on his pillows and feeling the lull of sleep and quiet dreams. She smiled a little as she wished she would wake up to his kisses after such a long time of being apart.

Her new promotion, it was both a gift and a curse.

Unlike previously, her swing shift supervisor position meant time to see her daughter in daylight for a bit, but at the same time not seeing him.

Now, after weeks of being apart he would kiss her awake just like Prince Charming on Snow White. She grinned, feeling like an idiot for associating her reality with some fairytale. Not only was she sleepy and exhausted, she was delusional too. In a good way.

She stopped. No, no, no, no…

What was wrong with this one? Spot the difference.

The curtains were pulled and the shades were down in his usual claustrophobic way, stuffy and practically dark. He worked grave so he had to improvise, imitate the night as he slept through the day. That was normal, so far. She was used to it so her eyes adjusted easily in the darkness—plus the years she spent on grave with him was a bonus.

Sad for her, later her heart would take longer to adjust than her eyes.

Spot the difference.

Like a harsh slap from reality she realized she got the wrong fairytale. Someone was in bed, curled up in a ball with sheets messily wrapped around her. She realized she wasn't Snow White after all. No way. Her mind, for some reason, processed through the endless list of fairytales she had read to her daughter when she was small and before that, her "Uncle Sam" and his own stories.

Her mind sopped and she knew the answer: She wasn't Snow White; she was one of the Three Bears in Goldilocks.

Spot the difference.

This wasn't Goldilocks though, not even close.

The curled up medium sized shape lay in one side of the bed, _her side_. Hank nudged her hand with his head again as if to distract her from the sight before her, but she didn't notice. She stood there, frozen on the spot just by the door. Like a petrified deer in front of a speeding car.

Spot the difference.

By the bed, a pair of black boots laid, one on top of the other. A pair of jeans lay like a lump beside them and not too far away a white shirt too as if it had been tossed, beside it, another lump, this time black, a jacket. Black, lined with green ladies' underwear lay by the heap, the green pulling her blue eyes, making her stare as if in a trance. On a chair hung a matching black and green scrap, _bra_, hanging by the strap. It was the cutesy type any guy would like to playfully pull away, maybe with his teeth as he teased, expensive yet not so slutty; logical, rational, sensible underwear, yet devastatingly sexy if worn and showed off right. Apparently, it lived up to its purpose. Bravo.

Suddenly she realized there was a lump in her throat and she felt Hank push closer to her, his moist nose pressing in to her palm. She felt him, but not in the way she was suppose to feel him. Comfort, the dog, by nature, was offering his comfort. But she was far beyond that. The sleeping form stirred and turned to face her, turning in sleep.

Spot the difference.

Suddenly she felt sick as she faced the sleeping woman, now identified thanks to her unconscious compliance.

Definitely not Goldilocks.

This one was a brunette.

Her mind raced again, still for the same reason as before.

She wasn't a Bear after all and this was clearly not Goldilocks.

Sleeping Beauty, maybe?

She pushed the silly thoughts of fairytales and characters form her mind and tried to find reason for reason. She tried to think of reasons why _she_ would be in _his_ bed, sleeping, obviously _naked_ and _comfortable_. She could only come up with one.

Spot the difference.

And it was not a pretty picture.

She turned and walked out, numbly and slowly. Hank followed, his tail now hanging and he let out a small whimper. The shrill ringing of the phone made her cringe and shrink back as she passed.

She wondered if she should pick up.

But the incessant ringing made her do it. She was embarrassed as it is, but having Sleeping Beauty wake up and find her standing in the middle of his living room would be just as good as death to her ego, her dignity and everything else that was left.

"Hello?" she said in a voice that didn't sound like her even to her.

"Sara?" Gil's voice said, sounding a little confused.

"No. Sara's still asleep."

She hung up, picked up her purse and walked out the front door. The phone started to ring once more, but she either ignored it or didn't hear. She didn't care.

She left a whimpering Hank inside. She didn't think she could make it should she walk back into the house that used to be home even when she was still married, pregnant and later, with a baby girl. She closed the door behind her, shutting in the ringing and the harsh reality she was forced to face.

Suddenly it all seemed so clear to her now.

_Where's Grissom?_

_Why isn't he calling?_

_How come he doesn't come around anymore?_

_Why isn't he talking to me?_

_Why isn't he taking me out anymore?_

_When was the last time we made love?_

_How come he doesn't answer my calls anymore?_

Now she had all the answers to those questions and regretfully, more.

-o0o-

Kinda short, I know…

Well? Tell me what you think! Let me know if I should continue it!—or should this be just a one shot?


End file.
